Black Market Blood
by Roboferret
Summary: My name is Crona. My blood is black. Well, she said it was. I don't know. They never let me get hurt, so I haven't seen my blood. Ragnarok is kind of my friend, but he bullies me. He always tells me how useless I am, which I know, but it's still scary. I don't know how to deal with it, but I should. Schizophrenic!Crona
1. Chapter 1: Confusion

**Hi, I'm roboferret and this is my second soul eater story. the other one (Soul eater Drabbles) is still being updated so i'd really like it if you would check it out! I currently have another multi chapter fic at the moment (for Puella Magi Madoka Magica) so this one might be a bit slow for updates but I'll do my best.**

**also reviews are really appreciated!**

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**Chapter 1:**

My name is Crona.

My blood is black.

Well, she said it was. I don't know. They never let me get hurt, so I haven't seen my blood.

Ragnarok is kind of my friend, but he bullies me. He always tells me how useless I am, which I know, but it's still scary.

I don't know how to deal with it, but I should.

I like to sit with my knees tucked in front of my face. That way, maybe nobody will see me. If I can't see them, they can't see me.

I sit like that now. I wonder where my pillow went. I wonder where Ragnarok went. I wonder where Roomsy Kornerkov went.

The nice lady, with the pigtails and the checkered skirt came a while ago and gave me these pills. Ragnarok went away after that.

She said her name was Maka Albarn. Ragnarok said she was nearly as ugly as me. But I thought Miss Albarn was beautiful! I guess I was wrong again.

"Crona."

The voice is strong, firm. Dependable. Suspicious.

"Y-yes, that's me." I stammer. Who is this? What do they want with me?

"I am Death the Kid."

I scrunch my face into my knees.

"Could you let me say goodbye to Ragnarok before I die?"

"Who is that?"

He hasn't seen Ragnarok? Miss Albarn has. I though she would have told everybody.

I guess Ragnarok wasn't that important in her eyes. I kind of hope not, but Ragnarok will be angry.

I don't answer the voice.

"Who is Ragnarok?"

My voice is frozen in fear, an ice cube caught in my throat, obstructing breathing and speech.

I hear the swishing of a cloak and the voice doesn't speak again.

I pluck up the courage to peak around. Oh, how silly. Crona has no courage.

The room is cold and built of stone, the bed hanging from one wall by some chains. There is a sink and a toilet as well. The whole room smells musty, but it's better than the trunk.

It was always so dark in that trunk. Darker than it is here.

Oh! It's a pillow. It rests by the door, fluffy, white and enticing. I don't want to move, but I want that pillow.

Uncurling from the position I sit in, I crawl hesitantly over to the pillow. What if its another experiment, like all the ones Medusa did? Like when she made me kill the little one so I could have a pillow.

But I retrieve the soft, squishy pillow without anything happening.

Waiting in the corner. Day turns to night and back again. I don't want to move from my corner until Ragnarok comes back again...

But he doesn't return for many hours. The sun disappears into the night sky three times before he comes back.

"Where have you been, Ragnarok? I was lonely!" I ask, nervously.

"What are you talking about, moron?! I was here all along, you were just ignoring me. I hate people who ignore me!" Ragnarok says in that scratchy whiney voice of his.

He thumps me with his fist. Ouch, Ragnarok, that hurt. I don't like it when people hurt me, it's hard to deal with. But I can, because it happens all the time with Ragnarok here.

The door, wooden and bolted shut from outside, creaks and I look up. What happens if Death comes again? Why didn't he take me before anyway? Was it because he was only a Kid? I don't know.

Oh, it's actually Miss Albarn. That's nice. I blush and hide my face. I don't think she wants to see me, I am too ugly.

"How are you doing, Crona?" she says kindly. It sounds like her voice is smiling. How can a voice smile? I don't think I can deal with that...

"I am cold in this cell and Ragnarok is hurting me, I'm not doing so well, Miss Albarn." I say honestly, my voice trembling.

What if she is angry? Medusa was always angry when I complained.

"Don't worry, Crona, we're going to be moving you out of this cell soon! Oh, by the way, just call me Maka." Maka. It sounds nice. I say her name and let it roll on my tongue. It's sweet and tastes like heaven.

She grins at me and smoothes some wrinkles in her yellow vest. "Oh, yeah! I nearly forgot. I'm supposed to give some more pills to you! They'll stop Ragnarok from hurting you."

She hands me more of the purple capsules I received a few days ago. I carefully place them in my mouth and swallow them. Ick, they don't taste very nice! I hope Ragnarok is kinder after this.

"T-thanks, Maka." I mutter. She smiles and reaches out to me. I flinch. What is she doing? Medusa never touched me other than to hurt me! But Maka just pats me on the head, then turns and leaves, flashing a grin back over her shoulder.

"Why do you think Maka is nice to me, Ragnarok?" I ask, timidly. But Ragnarok is nowhere. He isn't here anymore. I'm alone again. The dark of the room presses down on me, trapping me. Like when Medusa locked me in that black, black room.

But this is worse because Ragnarok isn't here! Where is my friend?

My only friend.

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**Hope you enjoyed. I will make future chapters longer, this was just an introduction.**

**please review!**


	2. Chapter 2: Hostile?

**Wow I really didn't expect a review first chapter but I got one so YAY! Thanks a bunch**

**anyway, onto the chapter!**

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**Chapter 2: **

Ragnarok didn't return for a long time again.

Being left alone was really scary. At least I had Mr Pillow.

I didn't get any sleep without Ragnarok's familiar breathing.

I only realise when he's gone, but Ragnarok is a big part of me and it feels off when he isn't there.

Maka was bringing me food, which was really nice of her.

The food was shaped strangely. It was shaped like Death. Or at least, how Medusa said Death's mask looked.

It didn't really taste like Death. I know what that tastes like.

Little One taught me. It was the last thing it did.

I killed it! Isn't that funny? I killed it and instead of revenge, it taught me something, gave me a taste of something I would do well to recognise.

Sometimes, Little One's eyes stare out at me. It's the dewdrops. When I look at them, all I see is Little One's sad, broken eyes looking at me. I don't know how to deal with it! So I don't go outside after it rains.

After I killed Little One, everything was covered in blood. Even the pillow Medusa gave me as a reward! It was stained red and it was wet, but I still buried my face into it.

The sticky stuff clung to my face and I had blood all over me!

Medusa said I finally looked like a real killer.

"Crona... What're you doing?!" Ragnarok hisses.

I jerk up. I guess I spaced out!

"Sorry..."

"I can hear footsteps, I think some bastard is coming this way!"

"It's probably Maka, Ragnarok! And she's not a bastard..."

"No, the footsteps are too heavy for her."

Oh no! Somebody I don't know is coming down here! How am I going to deal with that? What if it's Death's Kid or whatever it was again?

Trembling, I scrunch myself into my corner even tighter, clutching Mr Pillow to my chest.

"You're such a little wimp, Crona!" Ragnarok chastises.

I open my mouth but no words come out. What would I say, anyway? Sorry, for being pathetic? Well, I could...

I shake my head, still terrified and clench my fists as the door opens with a loud clank.

Refusing to look up, I cover my face with my hands.

"Don't be so insulting, okay Ragnarok? We don't want these people to hurt us!"

I caution Ragnarok, but he's quiet for once.

"Ragnarok? Who's that?"

A different voice to the Death Kid.

Why doesn't anybody know Ragnarok? He's right here! Shouldn't they have connected the dots? I don't know!

"N-n-nobody..." I stammer, instead of asking. Too afraid.

"I don't really care either. I've come to escort you to the Death Room."

Death Room? Are they going to kill me? That sounds scary! I crunch myself into an even smaller ball.

Rough hands take my shoulders and lift me up, separating Mr Pillow from my arms.

I have to look at the person here.

He has bright blue eyes. The most blue eyes I've ever seen, like an ocean! I can feel myself drowning...

His hair is vibrantly red. Like a cherry, I suppose. I've never eaten a cherry. Medusa would sit and eat them, teasing me, but never giving one over. I always had to eat bread and soup. Better than nothing, I suppose, but I like the death food here.

Oh, I'm off track again. My thoughts wandered and now the man is shaking me and trying to snap me out of it.

"S-sorry!" I squeak and go limp in his hands, staring at him apprehensively.

"Stand up, Crona. We're leaving now."

I stand and he takes my arm securely, then leads me out of my comfortable cell.

It sounds funny, but that's what it was to me! A comfortable cell. The mildew and cold stone were familiar and oddly relaxing.

The man places a blindfold over my eyes in case I memorize the way out. I would get lost anyway, I think. Am I a prisoner, or are they just being careful?

Where has Ragnarok got to? I wouldn't pick him for a shy one... But I have horrible judgement so it doesn't matter.

My escort has shoes that click loudly on the ground. Maybe they're the dressy kind? The corridor smells of wax. I guess the soft glow I can see through the blindfold is candles.

Voices! Four of them. I haven't heard so many people at once in a long time. One is gruff and low, kind of throaty. It's scary and reminds me of Free.

I flinch instinctively and my escort clutches my arms tighter, confining me. I haven't let myself think about Free for a long time either. The way he'd push me to the ground and pull my pink hair and rip my clothes, call me a freak. I knew it, but I hated him saying Ragnarok didn't exist! Because Ragnarok always punched me when he said things like that. It was my fault nobody ever acknowledged him.

Maybe that's why he liked Medusa so much, she always spoke directly to him and knew he was there. Erika was like that too, but there was always something distasteful and false about it.

The voices aren't audible anymore and I can see a much brighter light through the blindfold. The black material of my dress swishes against my legs like we're in a breeze and I nearly trip over it.

Struggling to regain balance, I stumble into something made of wood. A vertical pole, by the feeling of it. The same rough hands pull me back up to my feet and I breathe deeply, fear coursing through me.

"So this is the infamous Crona!" A perky, nasal but definitely male voice says.

Hands tickle the back of my head and the blindfold unexpectedly falls off. I squint, temporarily blinded. When I get my bearings, I look around. The room doesn't even seem like a room, but it has windows high up on the ceiling and mirrors around a white platform. But there are wood arches (that must be what I fell into) lining a stone path and clouds floating inconspicuously overhead.

Clouds inside? I can't deal with that! What am I going to do? I scan the area hopelessly, trying to find some place to run or hide, but there isn't an opening and my arms are being held behind me still.

Then a white mask is staring me in the face. Death's mask.

Terror.

Paralyzes.

Me.

I freeze right up, my arms and legs locked together. I try to scream, it's tearing at my throat like a beast in a cage, but it won't come out. Sweat beads on my forehead and I can't move. Medusa always told me Death was out to hurt me, catch me, kill me and take my soul.

I guess it's my time to die now!

Preparing for a blow, for a blackness to consume me, to see my black blood splashing the floor, I curl up and cringe, breathe deeply.

But the pain I was expecting doesn't come.

Instead, a bright "Hiya!" And a jolly clap on the back.

What? Why am I not dead? Did Death just say 'Hiya' to me?

"A-are you going to kill me?" I ask hesitantly. The man holding my arms laughs harshly and it jars my body.

"Spirit, you can let go of Crona now, she won't be able to leave the Death Room without my permission." Death says perkily.

There goes my escape plan, I suppose. The rough hands release me and I fall to floor limply. Doing a lot of falling over today, I guess. I'm very clumsy.

"Anyway, no Crona, I am not going to kill you. In fact, I'm here to help you!" Death says, turning to me and bouncing. He seems too cheerful, I don't really know how to deal with it.

"B-but... She always told me never to trust Death and that he'd kill me and try to kill her if I ever saw him! I have to listen to her or Free will hurt me again..." I'm rambling. I'm sure it'll make Death angry, then he'll kill me. Shaking again, I cross my arms protectively over my chest. Why can't Ragnarok come back? I would be more comfortable if my friend was here...

"What? How strange! I wouldn't hurt you, Crona! I've been waiting to help you for years. The DWMA has had it's eyes on you for awhile. We've all been quite worried!"

I've never had anybody worry that much about me before, except maybe Medusa, but that was only because she thought she'd lose her best experiment.

"Where am I?" I ask eventually. Death claps his large white hands together suddenly, making me flinch.

"Why, Crona, you're at the DWMA! The Death Weapon Meisters Academy! Here we train aspiring meisters and their weapon partners to fight and help protect the world against Kishins." Death says excitedly.

"Then why am I here?" I wonder aloud.

"Well, we also take responsibility for any other problems around here. You were at serious risk of becoming a Kishin, or some other threat, so we needed to take non violent action. We brought you here, to try and help you heal after some of the things you've been through."

They want to help me? Nobody has ever wanted to help me before. It's nice.

"Anyhow, I need to let you know of a few things we have going on here. We'll be moving you to a dormitory room soon, but it will be seperate to our student's. Maka Albarn has been charged with looking after you, so she will show you around and everything."

Maka is going to look after me? I instantly feel safer now. Even a slightly familiar name is a relief.

"I'll just be calling her down here to come escort you. Any questions, Crona?"

Questions? Usually I pass on questions, but...

"One... One thing. Do you... Know where R-Ragnarok is?"

The atmosphere becomes tense and hostile, confused even. What is going on? Are they going to hurt me? Why is Ragnarok's name enough to spark anger, hostility and confusion all at once?

How come nobody knows Ragnarok, but they all get mad when they hear his name?

I really can't deal with this!

Then Death says harshly "No. No, I don't know where or even who this 'Ragnarok' is. Now please, wait patiently until Maka arrives."

Why won't anybody tell me? What is going on here? Where is Ragnarok?

Why am I always alone?


	3. Chapter 3: Freak

**Thanks so much for reviews, everybody, especially that one psycho with the six billion UPDATE!s**

**But it took too long! *sweatdrop***

**sorry my update was a little late anyway :(**

**This is quite short, but I'll try to update soon. Hope you haven't all given up on me ... ;)**

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**Chapter 3:**

My room is nice, I suppose. The dark wood floors warm up when you put the heating on and the bed is squashy and soft. Ragnarok would probably have liked it here, but I still don't know where he is.

There's a desk in the corner, with a strange light sitting on it and books stacked up precariously on the edge. A plushy purple rug is covering a small portion of the floor and an old poster is still tacked up on the wardrobe door.

Maka strokes my hair again when she leaves, but she looked hurt when I flinched. I can't believe I did that! I don't understand why it made her sad, but it was still stupid.

There were plenty of pillows for me to curl up on, to dwell on it. I'm not sure it's very clever of me to cry on my pillow and make it wet straight away, but I couldn't really stop the tears. It was kind of nice to cry without Ragnarok calling me a sissy for once. What even is a sissy?

The clock told me it was about six o'clock when somebody knocked on my door and called out "you've gotta come down to the mess hall. It's dinner time."

The voice was low, with a hint of underlying sarcasm and obviously belonged to a male. It seemed kind of menacing, or at the very least chastising, but that was all it said before there was a long pause. I sat up, quivering and willing the person to go away. Then, "I'm coming in."

The doorknob turned and clicked, then a boy stepped inside. He had unnaturally white hair and scary red eyes. Like a demon, they bored into me, but at the same time seemed uninterested. I backed up against the wall, almost hitting my head on the ledge of the high window.

As he strode towards me, the boy's black jacket slipped down one of his arms, and he tugged it up with one pale hand impatiently. His shoes were scuffed and dirty boots, and for one absurd moment I hoped he hadn't gotten footprints on my rug. I almost laughed at the strange concern.

"Oh, it's you." he muttered.

"D-d-do I know you?" I stammered boldly, then immediately regretted such a confrontational tone. Well, for _me _it was confrontational...

"No, but my partner Maka does."

I nodded and looked away, crouching down and grabbing my knees self consciously.

"You're Crona. I'm Soul Eater."

Soul Eater? What a scary name... I don't want him to eat my soul. I backed away from him, eyes wide and fearful, but he just smiled a strangely comforting grin at me. Despite his somewhat spiky teeth and scary eyes, his smile was still reassuring.

He held out a hand and I reached forward cautiously. His grip was firm as he shook my hand, then suddenly pain stabbed through my palm.

I snatched my hand away and reeled backwards, staring at the hole in my palm rapidly closing up, rimmed by a black scab. I whimpered, but the pain subsided quickly. The only evidence of my wound was the black patches on the floor and the blood dripping off Soul's hand, now a small scythe blade.

"So what they say is true. You do have black blood." Soul Eater murmured. He turned on his heel, clapping me on the back as he went and exited my room, pausing at the door. "The mess hall is down the stairs, first door on the right." He walked away without closing my door. I blinked in bewilderment as he left. What a strange and... rude boy. I don't really know how I'm supposed to deal with somebody so abrasive, but Crona doesn't get must choice. She must put up with it silently, take the pain without screaming.

I shake my head and cautiously step out of the room, my stomach rumbling. I'm going to need food at some point, I suppose. But there will be a lot of people in the mess hall and I can't handle that many people staring at me.

They will be staring at me, right? I'm just a freak, with my black blood and pink hair. I'm too skinny, and having Ragnarok attached to you isn't normal.

They'll all stare at me, eyes making bullet holes in me and then they'll turn away, laughing at me. Nobody likes Crona. Nobody likes freaks.

Crona is a freak.


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